The Abyss
by Cerabellum's Matrixx
Summary: Bethany Niles has permanently freed herself from her family's monstrous torment, now on the run because of the particular method she used for her liberation. Alone, confused, and afraid, Bethany soon crosses paths with Jonathan Crane. Will the good doctor help this lost child, or will his influence only send her further into the dark abyss of fear and madness? CranexOC
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: Hello! You may notice that this seems like a duplicate story, especially now since I just told you it is. WELL, after being away from FF for so long, I tried to log into my old account, Cerabellum's Matrix, but I couldn't for the life of me remember the damn email that I used for it. I've contacted FF support to help fix this issue, but they haven't responded to my emails. SO, I've created a new account, Cerabellum's Matrixx, to revive and revise my stories. Thank goodness I had these stored on my old highschool flashdrive, lol. 'The Abyss' is a completed story, consisting of thirty-two chapters, and will be updated rather quickly. You CAN read the completed story on my old profile Cerabellum's Matrix, with one 'x', but do know that this story is being revised, so if you'd rather wait, good on you, but if not, that's totally fine too. The story isn't going to be changed monumentally, but I'd like a chance to fix as many errors as I can find. Please enjoy! Or not! It's all good!**

 **(I'd also like to sincerely apologize to my old readers, and do hope y'all are able to find my new account. I am SO sorry, my dudes.)**

 **...**

Bethany Niles shuffled tiredly down the cracked pavement, occasionally tripping and tumbling clumsily to the ground. She didn't care, and really didn't feel it. Her mind was too occupied on other things for her to register something such as pain. She would just stand back up and continue on, not really knowing where she was going, exactly.

Again, she didn't care...

Why would she? She was a twelve-year-old walking aimlessly through Gotham's dangerous streets in the middle of the night...

What's the worst that could happen?

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't be out here. She would be back at her home, lying in her much less-than-comfortable bed, and listening to her mother and step-father argue over trivial matters while her older brother laughed softly in his twisted dreams.

Of course, under normal circumstances, the members of her family wouldn't currently be lying in their beds with their throats cut and their entrails missing from their abdominal cavities.

Beth remembered the disturbing gargle that her mother sounded when she was stabbed in the gut by her own daughter. Bethany remembered the look of shock and fear in her mother's wide, blue eyes.

"Beth..any..." she said, and that was all she managed before her eyes glassed over and she stared through her daughter into the darkness of cold death.

Bethany looked down at her shaking, blood-stained hands. "Not my fault. Not my fault..." she muttered, as she went over killing her step-father in her mind. He was a special case. He was the reason, after all, for all of this. It was __his__ fault they were all dead. His fault that she finally saw her family for who they were.

"Monsters."

She said the word slowly, bitterly, and spat at the ground, wanting to remove the taste of it from her mouth. She turned a corner, and kept walking.

Monsters. That was all she could describe her family as, anymore. Her brother was a class-A nutcase that enjoyed harming animals for the hell of it. He picked on his sister to no end, and was the reason for the long scar on her right thigh. Her mother only cared about her image and social standing, as well as her dearest husband who took so much care of her. For him, Beth's mother would overlook his aggression and ignore the constant beatings he gave Beth. She did nothing when bad came to worst, and merely looked away when the worst became utter hell for her little girl.

Beth's step-father. An abuser of alcohol, and lover of aggression. He was what shaped Beth's brother into the disgusting delinquent he was. Her step-father beat her whenever he saw fit, drunk or not. She was his punching bag, the reason why she lost her baby teeth before they were even loose, the reason why she shakes whenever anybody touches her. He created Beth's fear of the dark, as he frequently locked her in the cellar where her only companions were the starving rats that nipped her toes.

Yes, he was the reason why she finally saw her family as it really was.

Uncaring.

Tormenting.

Monsters.

And tonight, Bethany's step-father was the reason why she no longer had her virginity.

After that terrifying drunken incident, she finally fell off the edge. He had taken everything from her. Her family, and her own self. Her screams for help during the entire ordeal were replied with her brother's laughter and her mother's silence.

She was done with them.

Done being used.

Done being bullied and beaten.

They took her childhood and twisted it into a sick horror movie that people wouldn't want to admit seeing after watching it.

As vengeance, she gave her tale the perfect ending, and lowered the bloodied curtains with barbed-wire ropes.

Now all she did was walk, replaying every detail of her actions in her head, not paying any attention to what was around her. She smiled as she imagined how the police would react when they found the entrails in the tub, and when they saw her step-fathers severed penis shoved into his own mouth. A giggle burbled from her lips, and she stopped walking.

"What will they do when they find me..." she asked herself quietly. Her brow furrowed. What would they do? Juvenile hall? Prison? Arkham? Would they kill her? Would she die for her sins? She frowned. She didn't want to die.

Clarity began to fill her mind and she suddenly felt her heart beat hard against her chest. Bethany looked around and tried to figure out where she was. It was too dark.

"Too dark..." fear wriggled its way into her conscious. It was dark. Instinctively, she looked down to try and see if there were any rats crawling near her.

No.

There weren't.

Just pavement.

Even so, it didn't stop fear from gripping her very soul. Shadows seemed to move wherever she looked, and tears welled in her eyes. She wanted to find a bright place.

Light.

There was none. Just darkness in this long street that she couldn't recognize.

"Ma...Mama..." she whispered, then stopped herself. Her mother wasn't there anymore.

And it was her fault. The tears spilled over her freckled cheeks and made strands of her short black hair cling to her face.

What had she done? Why did she do that? She gripped her hair in her shaking hands and gasped for air. All traces of sureness were gone from her mind and she regretted everything she did.

"Why, why, why, why..." she mumbled to herself as she backed into a corner and sat roughly down onto the concrete. What had possessed her to do such an unthinkable act? She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth.

If they were monsters, then what was she? What was worse than monster...

"I don't knooow..." she sobbed, and rested her forehead on her knees. She resolved to stay in that spot, where someone would find her in the morning, maybe. They would see the blood on her clothes and skin, and they would call the G.C.P.D. She would be taken in, and she would pay for her sins.

Her hand reached into her shirt and retrieved the small cross that was kept round her neck by a thin chain. She gripped it, then began to pray. Before her step-father, she wasn't much into religion. But after he arrived, she had to believe in something. She had to put faith in something that was known as merciful, and loving. She needed something to give her the smallest shred of hope.

The concept of God had become something of a security blanket to her, instead of an absolute being to revere. He was just some unsure thing for her to to grasp onto when there was nothing else to go for.

A last resort.

"Dear father, born in Heaven-"

"Oi! Wassat over 'dere?"

Bethany looked up quickly to find three large men walking towards her. Her voice caught in her throat when she tried to speak.

"Looks like one-a dem homeless kids..." said another. She gulped. Technically, they weren't wrong...

"Hey, gurly..." said the last of the three. He smiled, showing his yellowed teeth.

"What should we do with 'er?" One of them asked. The other two shrugged.

"Shouldn't be this far in the Narrows during this time of night, kiddie...you're in Crime Alley, do ya know that?" said the smiling one. Beth shook her head. He smiled wider as a response, and removed something from his jacket pocket. He pressed something, and a thin blade popped out, reflecting the moonlight from its sharp edge. One of the men huffed.

"What're you doing, you idoit?" he asked.

"Just taking the kid's money, is all; I could use a drink..."

"She don't look like she got money on her-"

"Are you arguing with me?"

"...No..."

"Good. Hey, kid, come outta the dark so we can see ya better. And pull any money ya got outta yer pockets, got me?"

Bethany kept still. Her eyes glued to the blade. The one holding it sighed.

"Get your ass outta there or I'm gonna gut you. I've done it before and I don't mind doing it again..." he said. Bethany almost laughed. She'd done that before, as well.

"Hey, you ain't never done that before, Jerry-"

"Shut up! I'm trying to intimidate this damn kid!"

"Sorry, sorry."

"Listen kid! Get yer little ass out here, _ _now!__ "

Bethany still didn't move. She was too afraid of going near them. As a result, the one with the knife reached over and grabbed her hair, then dragged her away from the wall. She screamed when the knife nicked her arm.

Just down the street a thin figure exited an abandoned home, looking for where the scream came from. He saw a child being tormented by a couple of thugs. Something like this was normal in this part of Gotham, and the figure almost returned to his shelter when he heard one of the men shriek something odd.

"This kid got blood on her, Jerry!"

"Holy shit! What the __fuck__ have __you__ been up to?"

"Let me go! __Let me go__!" the girl shouted. She was terrified.

A small tremor ran up the figure's spine, and he swallowed.

 _ _Fear...__

"Hold her still so I can check her pockets!"

"Ow, __shit__! She bit me!"

The figure watched as one of them punched the girl in the stomach. She coughed, but kept struggling.

"She's a fighter..." the figure said. He knew that if she persisted with her squirming they would use that weapon on her, and leave her bleeding in the street. He looked up into the sky, almost expecting something, but it never came...

He sighed, and adjusted his glasses. "I suppose __I'll__ just save the day, then, since he seems to be busy..." he said, and went back inside to grab something.

Bethany fell to the ground, panting and crying. The men around her were panting as well. She fought hard.

The one called Jerry reached down and flipped her over. He pressed his blade to her throat.

"Little fucking bitch. I ask for one thing and you cause all this shit-"

Before he could finish, Beth kneed him hard in the crotch. He gasped, and fell over. The blade sliced her skin, and blood trickled from the wound. For a moment, she thought he had cut her throat, but when she continued to breath, she realized she was very lucky.

" _ _Ffffuuuuck__!" Jerry shouted into the ground, and slammed his fists down angrily. Bethany tried to sit up, but she was completely drained of energy. All she could do was lay there, helpless.

Jerry shakily sat up again, the knife still in his hand. "You're gonna pay real bad for that, kid..." he rasped. He reached over and sliced her wrist. Blood gushed from the wound and Beth gasped. The other men were pulling Jerry away from her.

"Man, calm down! It's a fucking kid-"

"Who gives a shit! From the looks of her she's already fucked up anyway!"

"Now, I hardly see that as proper discipline..." a new voice said. Beth looked to her right to see a tall person walking toward them. She could only see his thin frame in the darkness. They took a drag from a cigarette, and the end lit up bright red, reflecting off of what she saw to be rectangular glasses. The person blew out the smoke with a sigh.

"Who the fuck are you?" Jerry asked. The figure only walked in front of Beth and blocked her from her assailants.

"Just someone who would like to sleep tonight, rather than listen to a bunch of men shouting over a damned child..."

"Listen, queer! This got nothing to do with you, so beat it!" one of the men behind Jerry said. The figure only smirked.

"Oh, my. What a _big man_ you are. I'm trembling in my skin..." he said with refined sarcasm. Jerry growled.

"This ain't your business-"

"It isn't yours, either. I'm sure this child was minding her own business when you idiots showed up and ruined her evening. Am I correct?" the figure asked, and took another drag from his cigarette. Beth watched him drop the dog-end to the ground and crush it with his shoe. Her head was becoming light, and she could barely keep awake.

"Please..." she muttered. The figure turned and looked at her.

"Ah, yes, it seems you're in more trouble than I thought previously. I'll make this quick, then..." he said, and turned back to the thugs. "Now, I want you all to go home to your mothers and reflect on what has happened tonight, then maybe perhaps seek psychological help in the very near future..." he said. Beth frowned; if he was trying to anger them, he wasn't doing it well...

"You making fun of my old lady?" Jerry shouted. Beth snorted. Apparently she was wrong... The figure smirked at her amusement.

Jerry lunged at him and he simply moved to the left as Jerry rushed past him and almost toppled over Bethany. The figure grabbed Jerry's hand and twisted it with a pop. Jerry screamed, and he was thrown back to the other men, his hand angled oddly. The other two went for the figure, who had stepped away from the girl so she wasn't trampled. For a moment all he did was dodge, wasting what was left of the other two's energy. When they began to slow, he kicked one right in the face and watched as he knocked into his comrade.

"So __slow,__ gentlemen...compared to the other people I fight, you're nothing but unorganized drunks...oh, wait..." the figure tsked as they attempted to rise again, and pulled something from his jacket pocket. Beth couldn't see the object as the person tossed it at the group. It shattered, and Beth heard the men begin to scream.

She panicked. Why were they screaming? She tried to lift her head, but gave up. All she could do was make noise. "What..." she said. The figure walked back to her and looked down at her weak body. He picked her up bridal style, not caring about the blood that leaked onto his clothes.

"I'm sorry, my dear? I didn't catch that." he said politely, like there was nothing wrong going on at that moment. Beth cleared her throat.

"Who..are you?" she asked. Those last words completely used her energy, and she slowly began to fade into unconsciousness. The figure raised his brow at her, attempting to find an appropriate answer.

"Well," he said. "Currently, I'm your savior, in a sense. Normally, I would be your worst nightmare..." he said simply, not quite satisfied with his answer. Beth wanted to ask what he meant, but it was too late. She was already fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

When she woke up, Bethany's head was pounding, and she desperately wished she had stayed asleep. She kept her eyes closed and touched her hand to her forehead.

"Mama...water..." she said, her voice hoarse. Nobody answered. Beth was suddenly very aware that her bed was considerably more comfortable than usual. She opened her eyes, and looked down.

She almost screamed. Blood covered her clothing, and the actions of last night flooded her mind. She became dizzy, and she closed her eyes again. "Oh, no..." she muttered. Where was she? She remembered the person that helped her last night, and wondered if they were waiting for the cops to come and get her.

She opened her eyes again, and looked around. She frowned. For a home, it was pretty dingy. Wallpaper was falling away in various areas on the wall, and the room smelled damp. She looked at the window. It was cracked, and covered by loosely hanging boards.

"Weird..." she muttered, and looked at the wrist she remembered being slit the night before. It was bandaged. She felt her neck. That was bandaged, too. Beth felt her stomach, and winced at how sore it felt to the touch. She looked to a small table set by the bed and found empty blood packs and used gauze resting there.

" _ _What.__.."

"Ah, you're awake. Good. Change into these clothes." said a man's voice. Bethany blinked and looked to the door that lead to the small bedroom. A tall, thin man walked in, carrying a change of clothes in his arms. Beth took in his features. His eyes were dark brown, and looked through rectangular glasses that slid down his nose. Strands of his wirey red hair, long enough to tuck behind his ears, hung over his face. He looked young, mid-twenties, maybe. As he walked to her bed, Beth noticed a very dignified air to his steps, like everything he did was important in some way. He dropped the clothes on the bed and began to leave.

"Wait, where are you going!" Beth asked quickly. He turned and looked at her in mild surprise.

"I'm assuming you would prefer privacy while you change, miss Niles." he said. Beth felt a rock drop in her stomach.

"How do you know my name..." she asked in suspicion. The man adjusted his glasses.

"Simply because your name is all over the newspapers and television. It's getting a bit tiring, to be quite honest." he said. She began to panic.

"Papers? News?"

"Yes, apparently your being searched for. Your family was horribly murdered and they fear you may have been kidnapped by the killers." he said. Beth blinked. She couldn't believe it. They didn't know it was her. "But," the man continued. "We both know that is not what happened..." he said, looking to her bloody clothes. She gulped. So he knew it was her...

What would he do?

"Yeah..." she said dumbly. He sighed and turned to leave again.

"Get dressed. We can talk about this when you come downstairs." he said, and closed the door behind him. Beth reached over and picked up the change of clothes; a white, long sleaved button-up shirt and black pants. Each item was much too large for a child her size to walk around in.

"Must be his..." she said, and began to change, tossing the bloodied clothes into a small pile in the corner of the room. The act was difficult, since gravity kept trying to mercilessly knock Beth to the floor. She fought it though, and kept her balance, no matter how dizzy she was. She rolled the pant legs up six times, and even then they were still pretty big on her. As for the shirt, she just pulled the sleeves up above her wrists and let them bunch up at the elbow. She wished she had a mirror to see how much of a bum she looked like. Finding none, she shrugged and went to the door, brushing her hair as best she could with her fingers.

When her hand reached the doorknob, she stopped. What was she doing. God knew what was waiting for her downstairs. Police. Men in white coats. More men like the ones from last night.

And who was this guy? Why was he helping her if he knew what she did...

"And why the heck is he living in a dump like this?" she asked aloud. Nothing answered, and she was sadly getting used to that. Taking one deep breath, she opened the door and exited the bedroom. The hall was just as rundown, and Beth even saw some carpet missing from the floor. "This guy needs to move, big time..." she muttered, trying to add the smallest bit of humor to her dismal situation. When she reached the bottom of the hardwood stairs, which was a terrifying thing to do in her condition, Beth walked around, searching for anyone from the police department. When she reached the kitchen, all she found was the man, sitting and reading the day's paper. On the front it read in bold that Bruce Wayne had donated a large sum of money to a charity organization.

"I finally found a damned paper where your story isn't that important." The man said from behind it, then lowered it to see her. A cigarette hung from his mouth, freshly lit. He looked at the clothes she wore, and cracked a smile. "I apologize for the lack of proper clothing, but I wasn't exactly expecting company, especially from a child." he said, and folded the paper then placed it on the table. Beth walked in and over to an empty chair. She sat down quietly, and stared at him. He took a drag from his cigarette and flicked the ashes into a small tray in front of him. He was acting completely normal, and she didn't like it.

"Who are you..." she asked. He cocked his head to the side, then rested his cheek on his hand.

"How long have you lived in Gotham?" he replied. Beth huffed.

"Whole life, mister-"

"Doctor." he said.

"What?"

"It's Doctor, not mister." he said. Beth felt her cheeks become warm.

"Well, if you would have answered my question, then I wouldn't have made that mistake." she said.

"So, we are both at fault here."

"No, just you."

"Interesting."

"More like weird..." she mumbled, and he sighed in agreement.

"Yes, there is much more out of the ordinary than usual today." he said. Beth waited a moment before speaking again.

"So, who are you?" she asked. "And when are the police going to arrive?" the man took another drag from his cigarette and huffed a small laugh.

"Well, hopefully the police aren't on their way, which would mean my stay in this comfortable little spot would be rudely cut short. As for my name, it's Dr. Jonathan Crane. You may call me Dr. Crane, Doctor, or Jonathan. Just never refer to me as __mister__ , since it is horribly demeaning to someone in my position. Understood?" he said.

Beth gawked.

Jonathan Crane.

Scarecrow.

Crazy that runs around in a costume and gets chased by a masked vigilante for a living.

Beth stood as she felt her head go numb. She may have been sheltered from the world, but even she was aware of the dangerous beings that inhabited her city.

"I think I should leave. Thank you for your hospitality." she said, and walked towards the exit. She stopped in the kitchen doorway.

Where was the exit...

"The door is in the living room, which is to your left." Jonathan said. He had returned to reading his paper. "Leave if you wish, just know that people are looking for you, and they'll figure out sometime today that it was _you_ that killed your family. I offer a type of sanctuary, but if you would like to leave, by all means..." he said. Beth looked back at him.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked. "You're crazy. You dress like a scarecrow, and you like to mess with people's heads." she said.

"True, mostly. But I like to experiment on people's fears. If I only wanted to 'mess with people's heads', then I would have become a psychiatrist at Arkham. Oh-wait..." He paused, as if remembering something mildly important. "I __did__ become a psychiatrist at Arkham... haha..." he asked. Beth shook her head. She was in a house with a nutcase, and she wanted to leave...

But could she? She didn't want to be picked up by the police, much less be locked away for life. She considered her options.

Either go to jail, or chat with the crazy doctor.

Neither were that great, but one kept her from sitting behind iron bars, so she sadly shuffled back to the chair in the kitchen and sat down. Jonathan chuckled when she set her head down on the table.

"It's not so bad, once you get used to it." he said. Beth ignored him and began once again to think of her deceased family. Why had she done that? She couldn't remember, her memory was fuzzy. After a moment of intense thought, she froze, then touched her lap. Tears clouded her vision again, and she sat up, shaking her head. She blinked the tears back, some of them escaping down her cheek, and took a deep breath.

"Would you like to speak with me about whatever is ailing you?" Jonathan said as he regarded her sudden depressed state. Beth gave him a dirty look.

"This isn't a stupid game of doctor..." she said.

"I never said that, miss Niles. I just have nothing else to do, for the time being, and I'm nearly finished with this paper. If you would like to talk, just inform me." he said. Jonathan turned the page to the obituaries and began to read.

"Big brother always picked on me..." Beth suddenly said. Jonathan smirked and set the paper pushed his glasses upright and gave her his undivided attention.

"A big brother picking on his little sister. Now that hardly seems a good reason to kill people the way you did. Would you care to elaborate?" he asked. Beth kept her eyes on the table as she answered.

"He would throw rocks at me." she said.

"How large were these rocks?"

"Pretty big. Left welts on my arms and legs."

"Anything else your brother did?"

"He cut me on my leg with a big knife. He was playing with it, and chasing me around. I fell, and he made stabbing motions at me. He tripped, and cut my leg on the thigh. He never said sorry. Instead, he laughed." she said. "He also took my pet cat and buried him in the back yard from the neck down..." she said, then faltered.

"Did you get the cat out?" Jonathan asked. Beth shook her head.

"I tried to, but he got to her first.." she said. Jonathan nodded at this, sensing something awful.

"What did he do, your brother?"

"Ran Whisker's head over with a lawnmower." she replied simply, bitterness in her voice. Jonathan coughed, and took off his glasses. He pinched the brim of his nose.

"I must say I wasn't expecting that." he said. Beth nodded.

"That's not even bad, considering what he did as he got older."

"Would you like to tell me about it?" Jonathan asked. She shook her head 'no'. "Alright then, I certainly see why you've lost any positive emotional attachment to your brother. What about your mother?"

"She didn't do anything..."

"So why is it you killed her?"

"Because she __didn't do anything...__ " she said, and looked up at Jonathan, who leaned back in his seat.

"Didn't do anything when what happened, exactly?" he asked.

"And now we reach my step-father..." Beth said, and crossed her arms. "He beat me a lot."

"For what? Were you being irrational?" he asked, earning a glare from the little girl before him.

"I never did anything bad, if that's what you're asking. I could just be sitting there, and he'd come up and hit me right in the face. Mom didn't care, so long as he gave her what she wanted every night-"

"Isn't that a bit much?"

"Isn't that a silly question to ask, Doctor, considering my particular situation?"

"Understood. Why didn't you call child services?"

"What's that?"

"Now I know why. Never mind. Did you try telling neighbors?"

"Wasn't ever really allowed out of the house. They kept me home." Beth leaned forward on the table and rest her head on her arms. She stroked at small crack in the wood. "I didn't know any of the neighbors, and I couldn't get out of the house."

"What about your school teachers?"

"Home-schooled, and I didn't learn much at all."

"How little did you learn?"

"I can't read."

"Oh, my..."

"Well, I _can_ read simple words. But not much of the big stuff..."

"Alright, so you've gone through your entire life without any social connection to the outside world, and you were constantly bullied and beaten and uncared for. Am I correct?"

Beth nodded. "Yeah..."

"I'm sorry, my dear, but someone so young as you still shouldn't have gone through the mental stress that is required for someone to go over the edge like you did. I went through similar ordeals, and was a senior in highschool before I killed anyone, and even _then_ it wasn't so gruesome as your own peculiar methods...Is there something you are failing to inform me about?" he asked, and placed his glasses back on his face. Beth looked to her lap, not wanting to say anything at all.

"I..." she stopped herself. How dare her mouth betray her like that? "I..."

"I assure you, your words won't be repeated by me to anyone. Also, I've seen enough gore in my life to not be affected much by anything that is considered horrible to other-"

"My step-father raped me.." she suddenly said. Jonathan shut up quickly. His brown eyes were wide for the smallest moment before he returned to his business-like manner.

"I see. When did this happen?" he asked. His voice was calm, quiet.

"Last night." she said.

"Was that the metaphorical trigger that set off your darker image?" he asked. Beth nodded. She was rubbing her arms now, feeling insecure, agitated that someone else knew that she was now, as her step-father so eloquently put it, 'damaged goods.'

"How soon after...that...happened, did you go through with the murders?"

"A few hours."

"Did they attempt to defend themselves?"

"They were all asleep, sir..."

"Asleep..."

"Yes, shows how much they cared, really."

"Meaning not at all."

"Not. At. All..."

"Now I'm seeing your reason's for murder, miss Niles-"

"Please don't call me that."

"Alright then. What is it you want me to refer to you as?"

"Bethany or Beth, if you could. Niles is my step-father's last name."

"What happened to your real father, may I ask."

"Died from gunfire. He was in the G.C.P.D."

"I apologize for that."

"Don't. I didn't even know him, so I don't really care, anyway. Why should you pretend to?"

"You are an odd individual, Bethany."

"I guess..."

"Are you...in pain?" he asked after a moment. Beth looked at him in question. She didn't fully understand him. She blushed when it finally clicked.

"No. I was...but it's gone, now, like everything else." she said.

"This won't make you feel any better about this, but just know that from what you described to me, your family deserved to die harshly. My two cents."

"I thought that then, a lot. But now I don't know. They never tried to kill me..."

"They did worse and made you live through hell. You set yourself completely free from them. Be proud of yourself." Jonathan said. Bethany lay her head back down on the table and thought about what he said.

"You're a weird doctor, Dr. Crane." she said.

"One of the reason's why I'm not heading Arkham anymore."

"What was the other reasons?" she asked.

"The pay was terrible and the nurses were ugly." he said. Beth held back her smile.

"You aren't serious at all, are you?"

"Normally, I am. But _normally_ , I have something to do other than entertain a child with a severe case of depression."

"So you're trying to make me happy?"

"I'm going against my usual norm, I know."

"Thank you." Jonathan didn't expect that. Not a bit. A child, thanking the Master of Fear for his services. It was ridiculous.

"For what, may I ask?"

"For trying. Nobody ever 'tried' with me...that's all." She said. She looked a little embarrassed about her comment, and gave a small smile. Jonathan couldn't believe himself. He actually though that expression was 'cute'. He thought this whelp was cute.

'I need a drink...' he thought to himself, and cleared his throat. "Yes, well, why don't you go on back to the bedroom. You lost a lot of blood, and you need rest anyway." he said. Beth nodded and stood up from the chair. Now that she thought of how tired she was, she felt the world practically lean on her shoulders.

She was exhausted.

She yawned and rubbed her eyes as she walked to the stairs, her feet never really leaving the floor as she moved. "See you later, Dr. Crane." she said softly, and kept walking. Jonathan was left at the table. He watched his cigarette burn to the end, and he crushed the dog-end in the tray.

"What have you saddled yourself with, Crane?" he said to himself. Even so, he felt amused. This child was interesting, of course. "I didn't even ask her about her worst fear yet." he said. He would. All in good time."She just needs to wake up from her slight delusion, first." He liked his subjects alert, and she was far from even being fully conscious. He would wait until she was recovered before his experiment.

And it would be interesting, indeed.

"Dear little Bethany...what boogeymen lurk beneath your bed?"


	3. Chapter 3

"What are those?" Beth asked when she came back down. Her headache was gone, and she had removed the bandage on her throat. She was in the living room, looking questioningly at Jonathan, who was sitting at the ragged couch and searching through folders.

"Work. I would appreciate the quiet while I sort through these. There's food in the kitchen..." he mumbled, and pushed his glasses back up his nose. He seemed agitated, and Beth didn't want to mess with him.

"Alright." Keeping her mouth shut, Bethany decided to roam the small decrepit house and find anything interesting. Being in the same place as the Scarecrow, there had to be something fun to find.

About an hour later, however, she was disappointed at the fact that all she found was more empty rooms. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and an attic. She thought she would at least find something in the cramped attic, but all that was found was empty cardboard boxes and mothballs.

"Uuuuugh..." she walked aimlessly and quietly, wishing sorely that she had a bucket of paint to use to decorate the dull walls. After going back to her bedroom, she lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling, something she did when she still lived with her family.

Her family...

Beth shook her head to keep from thinking of them. She turned onto her side and looked under the bed. A dusty, rectangular bump on the floor made her raise her eyebrows. Rolling over on her stomach, she scooted under the bed and felt the object then pulled it over to her.

It was book, and the pictureless cover read 'Grimm's Fairy Tales'. She was able to read that much at least. She opened the book and leafed through the thin pages, finding well drawn pictures here and there. She closed the book and walked out of her room and downstairs into the living room. She quietly sat at a small cushioned chair some feet from where Jonathan sat.

She opened the book to it's first story, and began to attempt to read. She was able to get some of it. The 'and's and 'for's and other words like that were simple. But it seemed that once a word hit more than two syllables, she lost her ability quickly. She sighed, and made a pouty face at the pages. She felt Jonathan looking at her.

When she finally heard him drop his folder and give a subtle sigh of aggravation, she wondered if it was a good idea to attempt this near him.

"You're rather distracting when you make faces like that..." Jonathan said. Beth gulped. She looked up at him and smiled.

"Sorry."

"Yes, well...what is it you are reading?" he asked.

"I'm attempting to read Grimm's Fairy Tales." she said, and showed him the old cover. He frowned.

"Where did you get that?"

"Under the bed. It was hiding." she said.

"How far have you gotten?"

"Once upon a time...that's it." she said.

"Oh, bother..." he took off his glasses and rubbed his face. "Absolutely atrocious..." Beth didn't know what 'atrocious' meant, but she figured it meant something bad, by Jonathan's tone.

"Hey, it's not my fault-"

"I know, I know." he raised his hands to stop her. "It doesn't stop the fact that it is horrible for a tween to have no ability to read..."

"I can read _some_..." Beth muttered, and looked at her book with a twinge of anger on her pouty face.

"'Some' is not adequate."

"Geez, Doc, I can barely understand your crazy long words!" she said loudly. 'Atrocious', 'adequate', all these words confused her. Jonathan's eyes hooded. She would be a piece of work.

"Fine..." he said, and stood up. He walked over and took the book from her. He wiped some dust from it and flipped through the pages, snapping it shut when he finished his inspection. "This book has many long words that you most likely wouldn't understand even if you could read them. Tomorrow you will be given proper reading material to begin with, alright?" he said. Beth reached up and took the book back.

"Yeah, okay, but I'm keeping this one. I like it."

"You don't even know what it contains."

"It contains fairy tales..." Beth said, and hugged the book to her chest. Jonathan sighed,

"Yes, of course it does. I need to get back to work-"

"Hold on!" Beth yelled. Jonathan stopped, and waited for her to speak. "Can you read to me?" she asked slowly, gauging Jonathan's reaction.

"What?" Jonathan couldn't believe this child's boldness.

"Read to me, doc. I never read a fairy tale." she said. Jonathan cocked an eyebrow at this.

"Does Cinderella ring a small bell in your brain?"

"No."

"Beauty and the Beast?"

"No."

"The Wizard of Oz?"

"No."

"Disney Land?"

" _ _Noooo__."

"Oh, Jesus...alright, I suppose at least one ridiculous tale wouldn't hurt. But only one story." he said, and took the book from her. He walked back to the couch and sat roughly down, eyeing the book almost menacingly. Beth made herself comfortable in the chair and waited for him. He searched the contents for the shortest story he could find. His eyes finally rested on one of suitable length.

"Whatcha gonna read?" Beth asked.

"Little Red Cap." he said. Beth scrunched her face.

"I don't get it." she said. "What's a little red cap?"

"It's what the girl is called in this story." he said.

"That's stupid."

"That's how it goes, now hush, or you won't hear the story."

"Alrighty, then."

Jonathan gave her one last look before beginning the story.

"It ATE her?" Beth yelled after a few minutes of his reading.

"Well, yes."

"Gross! Old people probably taste like prunes or something!"

"Quiet, so I may finish."

"Yech, fine."

When Jonathan finally finished the story, Beth's eyes seemed like they would pop out of her skull.

"He killed it?" she asked quietly. He nodded.

"And saved Little Red Cap and her grandmother. Yes."

"Well, that's just mean. It was only hungry..." she said. Jonathan was surprised by this answer.

"Sorry?"

"It was hungry, and granny and Red looked yummy. If my only diet was rabbits and stuff, I would want to change it up, to." she said.

"Interesting logic. Usually a child would just be happy the wolf was gone and that the heroin was rescued."

"No fun if the hero wins every time..." she said, and yawned. Jonathan checked his watch.

"Yes, it's getting late. You need sleep, and I need to leave." he said, and stood.

"Wait. You're leaving?" she asked. She began to panic. She would be left alone in this creepy place?

"Only for the night. I'll be back before morning." he said. "Now go to bed."

"Fine..." Beth took the book from him, and walked up the stairs to her bedroom. She took off the pants and folded them, then placed them on her night stand. The large shirt was now officially a night gown. Once in bed, she turned on the little lamp and opened the book again. She found Little Red Cap in contents, and flipped to the story. Looking at the words, Beth tried to remember what Jonathan had read them out to be earlier. After a few minutes, she finally gave up and rested it on the nightstand. She left the light on and pulled the covers up to her chin.

In minutes she was asleep.

….

In the nightmare she was being chased by a large, gangly wolf, and it eventually took her into its jaws. She wasn't eaten, though, and the wolf only grabbed her by her red jacket and ran through the woods with her hanging from its mouth. From the side she saw a shadow moving quickly, keeping up with them even though the wolf ran quickly and dodged any obstacles. The wolf was eventually brought to a dead-end, and dropped Beth to the cold ground to face the shadow.

The shadow emerged from the many branches, dressed in all black, and carrying a large axe. The woodsman grinned with large yellow teeth, and charged at the wolf. The wolf fought, but was eventually thrown to the ground in a heap, and the woodsman swiftly ended the creature's life with one blow of the axes sharp blade.

Beth began to cry, and the woodsman turned to her, blood spattered on his shadowed face and yellow teeth. He began to walk toward her, raising his axe over his large shoulders...

Beth woke up.

Her heart was racing, and sweat covered her brow. The light from her lamp was out, and she hurriedly turned it back on. Jonathan must have turned it off while she was sleeping.

Jonathan.

She looked out the window. The sky was still dark, illuminated only by the lights from the main part of the city a few miles away. Quietly, she climbed out of bed and went to the door. She cracked it open, and looked towards the stairs. Light shown from the first floor, and she figured Jonathan was back. She ran to the stairs and down them to the living room. All she found was the lamp that illuminated the space, and no one there.

"Maybe he left it on so he wouldn't get lost when he got back..." she muttered, and sat on the couch. She brought her legs up against her chest and rested her chin on her knees, waiting. She was too scared to go back to sleep, and she wanted to talk just for a few minutes to Jonathan. Granted, he would most likely be really tired when he returned and would probably not want to speak to a child about a simple bad dream, but that was Beth's only option. All she wanted was to hear someone say the ghosts that haunted her dreams weren't real.

"Hey, whozzis?"

Beth froze, hoping the voice that came from behind her was Jonathan's.

But it was too low.

Too gruff.

She slowly turned to see a very muscular man in a black shirt and pants walking towards her. Another one with about the same build walked from the hallway and noticed her as well.

She jumped off of the couch and backed up against the wall. The first one tsked, and kept coming towards her.

"Prolly just an orphan who snuck in here for a rest." the one at the hall said.

"Yeah, I figure. I'll have to knock her out."

"That's mean, Micheal."

"It's gotta be done. He said any intruder and she's an intruder." he said, and picked up Beth by the back of her shirt. "Any intruders are to be dealt with accordingly. Little thing is lucky I don't kill her like he wants."

Beth screamed as he hauled her back to the couch. He smacked her against the head to shut her up. The assault instantly brought back the headache from earlier that day.

"Oooowwww..." she mumbled as tears formed in her eyes. He dropped her on the couch and pointed to a gun that rested on his hip.

"Well don't yell like a banshee, then. If you do that, or make a run for it, you'll get a bullet to the head." he said, and sat on the chair.

"Why did boss send us here anyway?"

"He wanted us to look over things, and keep anyone from entering."

"We coulda been helping with the Batman, though. He was on our tails like white on rice..."

"Boss must have somethin' worth somethin' in here. He's wary of that Bat, so he sent us here to make sure he doesn't stick his nose in anything."

"Still think he should have sent the rookies here, instead. I bet half of them are knocked out and cuffed by now."

Beth, whose hands were resting on her pained head, was paying attention to the whole conversation.

"Who do you work for?" she asked. The two men looked at each other before answering. She was just a kid. She couldn't do anything, right?

"A good Doctor Jonathan Crane." the one in the hall said creepily, as if trying to scare the girl. He walked to the front of her and leaned down close. "Or, when his mask is on..." he paused as if for dramatic effect. "He's known to many as-"

"Scarecrow, yeah..." Beth mumbled, and looked away from him. Slightly disgruntled, he pulled back and frowned.

"Alright smarty." he said, and sat next to her. "What's your reasons for being here anyway?"

Beth considered his question. Jonathan sent them here but didn't mention her to them. He must not have wanted them to know about her...

"Just found a way in and decided to stay for the night..." she lied.

"Well, you made a bad choice kiddo, 'cause now you're gonna face my boss when he gets back, and trust me, he's creepy as hell for a guy that thin. He'll rule out what happens to you."

"Whatever..." Beth muttered, and stared at her knees, faintly wondering if she'd be able to get clothes that fit her soon as she picked at the many folds of her borrowed pants.

"Kid's got moxy." the one named Micheal said, and chuckled.

"Yeah well bravery doesn't keep you alive in this city." the other one said.

"Neither does being scared all the time..." Beth added.

"Kid thinks she's clever." he said. "Why you awake?"

"Bad dream..." Beth said. No point in lying about that. The one next to her smiled.

"Aww, da baby had a bad dweam..." he said with a baby's voice. Beth looked at him with an unimpressed expression.

"If you're trying to insult me, then try a little harder. That was lame..." she said. Micheal laughed.

"She ain't takin' it from you, John." he said. John's face turned a bit red.

"Listen brat, don't you try your smart mouth on me. I'll beat your little ass." he said.

"You most certainly will _not._ "

Beth looked forward to the door toward the new voice. It was open, and Jonathan was leaning on the frame. He was wearing a suit, and the jacket looked almost like a straight jacket, with buckles hanging from the arms. He clenched a burlap mask in one hand, gripping his side painfully with the other. His glasses were missing. The two men jumped from their seats and walked to him.

"You alright, boss?"

"Fine, just worn from running like an idiot across Gotham from that damnable Bat..." he walked in, and Beth noticed a bruise forming on his cheek.

"Dr. Crane, are you-"

"I _j_ _ _ust__ __said I'm fine." he snapped, and Beth shut up. She put her hand in her lap, and looked to the floor, now too afraid to speak. Jonathan saw this and sighed in agitation.

"Looks like you spooked her boss." Micheal said. John scoffed and waved his hand at Beth.

"Kid like that is easy to scare. She'd probly run in fright if she saw a bee in the room." he said, and laughed. Jonathan's hand shot out and grabbed John's shirt, and the thug stopped laughing instantly.

"That ' _ _kid'__..." Jonathan said. "Has done things in her life that would make even the sickest of criminals' skin __crawl.__ The things she fears would not include simple bees or spiders. Do __not__...insult her..." Jonathan released Johns shirt and walked to the couch. He sat down, and leaned against the back. "Thank you for worrying, Bethany.." he said, looking to the ceiling. His grip never loosened on his mask.

Beth was surprised by his last words, and she nodded. "Yeah.."

"Bethany..." Micheal said from his seat. He scanned Bethany's appearance, contemplating. His face finally lit up in shock after a moment. "Jesus...shit..." he said. Jonathan gave a shaky laugh, and John only looked confused.

"What?" John asked. Micheal lifted a finger and pointed at Beth.

"That's the kid that fucked up her whole family. The one on the news. She did some sick shit." Micheal said.

"Language in front of the young lady.." Jonathan said.

"Yes boss. But that's still nuts. Was you lying when you said you found this place on accident?" Micheal asked Bethany. She nodded her face from the sudden attention.

"Dr. Crane found me and took me in for now..." she added the 'for now' just to keep on the safe side. She didn't really believe that Jonathan would keep her here for long. She believed she was just something to pass time with until he became bored. Who was she to argue?

"So she works for you now, eh, boss?" John asked. Jonathan shook his head.

"Simply a recovering patient." he said.

"Recovering patient?" Beth asked in confusion. Jonathan nodded.

"When you're healed and your mentality has regained an amount of its stability, you will be subject to my fear toxin." he said. Beth's eyes widened. So he would use her. Of course he would. She was half expecting it anyway. She sighed and gripped her shirt.

"Okay..."

"You're fine with that, kid?" John asked. Beth nodded once. Micheal did the same, with a sad smile on his face.

"Told you, John; Kid's got moxy..."


End file.
